His Name
by Jynxed Keyboard
Summary: She calls out the wrong name and Bolin's done this before. Borra, onesided.


**His Name**

Korrasexual Kink Meme fill for: "Bolin/Korra. Korra calling out Mako's name. Bolin gets sad/hurt/offended."

...

Four letters. Two innocuous syllables.

Bolin angles his hips, sliding out from the hot, wet tightness with a slick noise. Korra does not notice, choosing to collapse, boneless and satiated, on the bed beside him. It's like cold water has been poured down his back, or he's been tossed over the arena headfirst. He feels his cock softening against his thigh, his released denied by those four letters, two syllables.

The thing is, this isn't the first time.

Korra's breath begins to even out, and Bolin turns slightly, watching her snuggle into the pillow. He can't be mad at her, would never think of blaming her... or his brother. He pulls a blanket around her naked form, appreciating the moment with all its emotional burdens. He loves her. He really does. He can't stop.

He loves Mako, too. Bolin lifts his arms behind his head and stares out into Yue Bay, sprawling beyond their attic view. He sighs. For the past decade or so he has shared this view with his brother. Sacrifice, hardship, hard work; he's shared these things with Mako, too. Why does his heart hurt so much at the thought of having to share this moment as well?

A couple of years ago, when the two of them had started gaining fans and started checking out girls and noticing how easy it was to win them over with good looks and rugged charm (in Bolin's case, anyway), Bolin had noticed one girl. One girl that would always hang back from the crowds, one girl that held a notebook and pen in her hand but never seemed to have the courage to push through the swarm that seemed to form after each match, one girl with pretty, pretty eyes and shiny hair and a mysterious demeanor. He'd fallen _hard_. And when he'd approached her one day, it had seemed like she'd fallen for him, too.

Bolin remembers awkward dates, breathless anticipation, the absolute thrill of reaching for her hand and finding that she wasn't inclined to pull away. Those first sparks, that first kiss. The first time she'd pulled him into her bed.

Four letters, two syllables. One second before the height of orgasm and his world had come crashing down.

He hadn't said anything then, either. But she had tensed, rolled off him, apologized with a cutting, cold tone. _Sorry, but you aren't him,_ her true intentions had been masked by those pretty eyes; her stare, once mysterious and appealing, had become vacant and cruel. _You were an easy conquest, though. You were weak._All the words she'd never said had hurt him deeper than the stilted "I'm sorry" that escaped her lips. Maybe it was that moment that he'd realized he could be as charming and outgoing as he pleased and he would never hold the same appeal his brother would. Strong, sensible Mako. The best brother he could ever ask for. Completely unaware of the power he held over his little sibling. How he wished he could shrug off her attack the way he knew Mako could, and would.

But Bolin has always been more sensitive.

And now he feels terrible that the possessiveness choking his throat is threatening to overwhelm him. He _knows_ how much Mako has given up for the both of them. How hard he's worked, how much he continues to push himself to the absolute limit. And he _knows_that Korra trusts him enough to be intimate like this, he knows that she would never be purposely cruel. But, being the Avatar and all into that spiritual business, maybe Karma has a special sway on her and this is Its way of bringing cosmic justice? Bolin meditates on that idea for a bit. How much has he done wrong?

He just-he just wishes that the shock didn't have to come to him this way. He wishes that it didn't hurt so much. It's just four letters, two innocent syllables. A whisper of a name he has loved for all his life, his beloved brother, his strong protector, the sole remainder of his family that has given so much to him and taken so little. He wishes this moment, lying beside Korra, their shoulders barely brushing, legs delicately entwined, didn't feel like an intrusion.

But he feels unwelcome and so painfully selfish. What if she's dreaming of his brother? What if she forgets in the morning, too?

Bolin gives into the urge to smooth her hair back, his lips hovering over her forehead, but he holds himself back.

He untangles himself from their fragile embrace and gathers his clothes in silence.


End file.
